


The whole world at your fingertips

by lillaseptember



Series: Time really moves fast [4]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Adoption, Explicit Language, Family Fluff, Fluff, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Stanley Cup, idek there's just a lot going on here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 08:23:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12527120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillaseptember/pseuds/lillaseptember
Summary: Jack retires. And he and Bitty adopts a baby.“Monaghan’s niece wants us to adopt her unborn child,” he said slowly, and then paused, as if needing time to let that fact sink in. “Jack, that’scrazy.”





	The whole world at your fingertips

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, I _swear_ this wasn’t supposed to end up this long?? But it turns out that writing this was _drastically_ more interesting than writing a criminal law essay, and here we are. ~~I also edited this instead of preparing my remand trial, and RIP my academic career.~~

Grabbing his bag from where it had just been slung into the backseat, Jack let out a shallow sigh as he leaned against the roof of his car and allowed himself a few moments to just _breathe_.

At the beginning of his career he had always feared for the future. _Retirement_ was something indefinite and unknown, two of his least favorite things. It also meant the end of the one constant thing in his life; his first great love.

But now, his fingertips just a few months from grasping onto the conclusion of his career, he almost looked forward to it.

The California trip had been a successful one, with wins against both the Ducks and Kings, and an overtime loss against the Sharks. But it had also been one extremely long week, and if it was one thing he definitely would not miss, it was all the cross country travelling. His back was sore, his internal clock was all over the place, and he couldn’t wait to just be _home_ for a good long while now.

He had passed the prime of his youth, and he could feel how his body wasn’t the finely tuned instrument it had been just a few years ago. He had lost a lot of his speed, which hadn’t been that great to begin with, he was struggling with several recurring aches, and his knee had never been the same since after the injury. By now his greatest assets to the team wasn’t actually his game, but rather his experience, his knowledge of the the ice and the way he led his team.

12 seasons in the league was nothing to be ashamed of. Far from actually, especially seeing how he had entered it later than most.

And now he had something even better to fall back on, that had been more constant and supporting and loving than hockey had ever been. His second great love. And third, and fourth, and fifth, and sixth, and seventh.

Smiling to himself, managing to ignore the distant, dull strain in his shoulder, he pushed away from the car and made his way up the stairs of his house.

He barely had time to close the front door behind himself before he was assaulted by a small horde of children. Groaning a little more dramatically than was strictly necessary as he was knocked down by their collective momentum, he was immediately rewarded with the sound of uncontrollable giggles, and his entire world seemed just a little bit brighter again.

And that was how Jack Bittle, two time Stanley Cup champion, one time World champion and Olympic silver and bronze medalist, found himself at the bottom of a tickling scrum in his own house.

With 5 against 1 he didn’t really stand a chance, it was simply too many small fingers for him to try and parry, but they would never have forgiven him if he had given up without a fight. So pushing his discarded bag out of the way he set about trying to find as many unguarded bellies he could, to the indubious delight of his children and his own squirming defence.

The sound of the kids’ laughter, the smell of the maple sugar crusted apple pie wafting through the house and just the knowledge of finally having a solid foundation to stand upon again quickly unwound the tight spool of travelling stress from Jack’s chest. The feeling of having his children quite literally smother him with their affection was something he would never underestimate, and always hold so, so very close to his heart.

And it was all fun and games until someone accidentally pushed a little too hard at his bad shoulder.

“ _Careful_ ,” he gently reminded them, trying to keep the slight wince out of his voice. The plea was immediately met with the pressure not only being removed from his shoulder, but also from his entire upper torso. The side effects of this of course meant that all tickling attempts was now centered at his belly.

But rather that than the dull, throbbing pain, he supposed.

His saving grace soon came in Bitty walking out of the kitchen, his hair slightly mussed as he dried his hands off on a towel, his face set into an unapproving frown as he inspected the small huddle.

“Kids,” he sternly reprimanded them, the disapproval clear in his voice as he slung the towel across one of his shoulders before crossing his arms.

The rebuke was answered with an uncannily unified groan as the tickling gradually ceased, the displeasure plain on all of their faces. Min even went as far as flopping down straight over Jack’s chest with an undignified huff as she glared up at her dad for ruining their fun. Jack tried not to grunt under her weight, before he quickly petted her head in a gesture he hoped would convey that their fun had not been ruined at all. That, in fact, it had only just gotten started.

The look Bitty sent over their children’s heads as Jack took a few moments to regain his breath clearly said what he thought of the way his older husband was managing his aging and all of the effects it was having.

As if he hadn’t been the one between the two of them to have a 30-year crisis.

Letting his head thump back against the doormat as kids slowly unpiled from him, Jack couldn’t help grinning to himself.

Getting Min to actually stand on her own two feet again took some prodding, but she eventually got the hang of it. Gingerly pushing himself up to his feet, trying to remember what his own feet felt like, Jack barely had time to straighten before Bitty walked over and pulled him down into a kiss.

And it was like stepping onto solid land again after spending years at sea.

The kiss would have been quick and chaste even if Jack hadn’t been too busy grinning like a fool for it to settle properly. But just the feeling of Bitty’s hand at the back of his neck, his nose just barely brushing by Jack’s own, and the weight of his gaze was enough for the rest of the world to blur around him, pulled in by his husband’s gravity.

This routine of theirs was old and long since settled by now. Bitty didn’t say anything, because he didn’t need to anymore. The _Welcome home_ was written in his eyes, the _I missed you_ was whispered in the pressure of his fingers against Jack’s neck, and _I love you_ was translated from the taste of his lips still lingering on Jack’s own.

The _I told you Chowder would shut you out_ in the gentle quirk of his smile.

“I got pie,” was all he said instead, his fingers still twisted into the hair at the back of Jack’s neck, and Jack’s grin only grew wider.

 _Dieu_ , did he love this man.

Jack managed to steal one more kiss before Bitty stepped away, dragging his fingertips across the back of Jack’s neck before letting go, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The rest of the world slowly came back into focus again, and Jack just had time to see Karim swing Becky up onto his shoulders in order to race Josué to the living room.

Ana and Min had disappeared to somewhere unknown, and pausing only long enough to see that Karim found the proper balance for his baby sister, Jack followed to where Bitty had trailed back into the kitchen.

The dinner was still not entirely cleared away from the table, a small stack of plates piled up on one end along with some glasses, a pot standing unwashed on the kitchen island. Jack picked up one of the chairs that always somehow managed to topple over, straightened the rest of them, and then brought the dishes over to the sink. Meanwhile, Bitty had cut a slice of the aforementioned pie and placed it on a plate, exchanging the pie for the dishes with another quick kiss.

Jack ate the pie while leaning against the kitchen island, watching Bitty work. It was most definitely not listed on his meal plan, but Nate had given up that particular battle quite a few years ago.

It was a comfortable and quiet little moment, despite the ruckus coming from the kids in the living room. The feeling of solid and familiar ground beneath his feet, Bitty’s presence beside him and the ghost of his children’s weight still on his skin made it feel like he hadn’t just spent the last week several thousand miles away in one of the most gruelling game weeks of the entire season.

Watching the way the Jones’ garishly early Christmas lights lit up their entire back yard, and quite some of the Bittle one too, listening to Bitty quietly hum to himself, and feeling his kids’ presence all around him, the conversation that had brewed at the back of his head for an entire day finally returning to the front of his mind again.

Licking the last of the cinnamon syrup off of his fork, he placed it on his empty plate and looked up at his husband’s back, trying not to think too much.

“I was offered a baby yesterday.”

“Come again?” Bitty asked as he stacked the plates into the already overfull dishwasher. Bitty would rather die than wash the dishes by hand when _there’s a perfectly functional machine dedicated for that very purpose standing right here, Mr. Bittle._

Jack put away his plate on the counter and then leaned his weight back against it, bracing himself or looking for support, he wasn’t quite sure. “I was asked if we wanted to adopt a baby yesterday.”

He had Bitty’s attention now, and he watched as he took in the full weight of the words. He froze for a few moments, and then he had to put down the glass he had been holding. “You’re _serious?_ ”

Jack just nodded in response, and Bitty took a moment to process that information. But when he eventually opened his mouth to speak, he was interrupted by the soft patter of feet.

“Papa?” Becky asked with a gentle tug at Jack’s hand. Jack immediately fulfilled her silent request by hoisting her up onto his hip, and she giggled before she rewarded him with a quick peck at his cheek. “Will you play with me?”

Looking over to Bitty, who was smiling at them fondly with a hand pressed against his heart while still wearing that confused wrinkle in between his eyebrows, Jack wanted to walk over and smooth it out. But before he could move to do just that, Bitty briskly waved him off.

“We’ll talk after bedtime,” he decided before he reached for the pot that stood on the island. Jack supposed they weren’t in any particular hurry, and allowed the subject to be dropped for the time being.

Turning his attention back to the little girl in his arms again, he gently bumped his forehead against hers. “Of course, mon trésor. What did you have in mind?”

Becky’s smile was brighter than the sun, and Jack felt his heart light up to mach it.

Later, he had stayed by Becky’s bedside much longer than was probably necessary. She had nodded off not even halfway through their traditional re-read of _Sleeping Beauty_ , pressed tight into Jack’s side. Carefully climbing out of the bed, the tiny frame somehow miraculously holding his weight even though it most definitely did not keep his height, he pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head, grateful that his peacefully sleeping princess wasn’t awakened by them just yet.

He had snuck into the twin’s room after that, managing to drag Ana out of her book long enough to earn a quick glance and a “Night”. Min had not been as absorbed by her tablet, and had put it down for long enough to press a kiss to his cheek and send him off with a “Goodnight, papa”.

Heading downstairs, he had tucked Josué in with a kiss to his forehead, the boy’s eyelids quickly drooping low over his warm eyes and curling into his sheets as soon as Jack closed the door. Smiling to himself as he silently clicked it shut, he allowed himself a few minutes to just savor the moment before he headed back to his husband.

Bitty was smiling at his as he returned to the kitchen, his eyes crinkling around the corners. But Jack barely had time to stop in front of him before Karim had somehow squeezed himself in between them.

“I’m going to bed. Goodnight!” Pecking them both lightly on the cheeks, he disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared, scrambling up the stairs as if his life depended on it.

“Already?” Bitty called after him with a soft smile, which caused him to stumble a little in his haste.

Karim Bittle was well known for being a proper night owl, impossible to get into bed earlier than midnight and a nightmare to drag out of in the mornings. But now it was barely 9pm. “Yeah, well, I’m gonna read a book, or watch some TV, or, something…” he trailed off, sending them another dashing grin before scurrying off again. “Goodnight!”

Bitty just stared after him for a long moment, and Jack chuckled at the incredulous look on his face. “He’s just so excited to finally have a room of his own.”

Bitty considered that as he reached down to grab a mug from the washer. “Well, if I’d known that was all it took to finally get him into bed at night, we should’ve put him in the attic _ages_ ago.”

Jack smiled as he reached out to put a hand on Bitty’s hip, pulling him closer.

This kiss managed to settle in the way the previous ones had not. It was the kiss Jack had longed for for over a week, that he had been able to feel the ghost of during their nightly skype sessions, Bitty with sleepy eyes and a husky voice. Jack had trailed the lines of his tired squint on the screen, and the message of _I wish you were here_ was spoken plainly in the way Bitty was sprawled out on Jack’s side of the bed wearing one of his old Samwell shirts.

It was the kiss he worked through every single day to receive.

“Hi,” he whispered as they finally separated, leaning his forehead against Bitty’s and drinking in the sight of him. All these years later, and he was still just as beautiful as that time Jack had raced back across the Samwell campus and into a rundown frat room to kiss him for the first time. There was a flush high on his cheeks, his eyes were sparkling, and he was biting into his lower lip, as if he could still feel the pressure of Jack’s lips on his own.

And he was still cradling the mug he had been meaning to put away. “Hi.”

Pushing up on his toes to peck Jack quickly again, pressing a soft smile to Jack’s lips, Bitty had a determined look in his eyes once he got back on his heels, and petted Jack quickly on the arm. “I’ll get us some tea, and then we can talk.”

* * *

_“Hey, Bittle!”_

_Jack froze, his gloves that he had moved to throw into his bag left dangling in the air as he was caught off guard by the unexpected but still familiar voice. The slimmed down media entourage,_ one of the small joys of playing away _, had left quite some time ago, and most of his teammates had already filed out of the locker room. It wasn’t unusual for non-Falconers to come and go in visitors locker rooms, but this wasn’t just any non-Falconer._

_And turning around, Jack was met with the wide grin of Nick Monaghan._

_Monaghan was an_ ex _-Falconer, having played with Jack for a good couple of years. He was a brilliant d-liner, ruthless but with a sharp head on his shoulders, and the Falconers management had been reluctant to trade him off to the Ducks a few seasons ago. But Jack, if anyone, knew that the heart wants what the heart wants._

_And that didn’t meant that the Falconers, and Jack in particular, still hadn’t whooped his ass out of the ice that day._

_So Jack smiled as he tossed his gloves into his duffel.“Hey, Nick.”_

_Nick winced as he clutched at his heart in a dramatic zest. He had worked hard to get the nickname ‘Money’ to stick, and was obviously disappointed that Jack hadn’t respected him enough to even call him Monaghan._

_His blinding smile was back soon enough again though. “Are you in a rush?” he asked as he inspected the haphazard mess that was Jack’s luggage. “Or do you have time to catch up? How does coffee sound? My treat.”_

_Jack hesitated, his hand hovering just by the strap of his bag. He_ was _in a rush. After a week out by the west coast he wanted nothing more than to get back to Providence, back to his home, back to his family. Back to Bitty._

_But the plane actually carrying him home that distance didn’t leave until tomorrow morning._

_He had yet another night to spend in California, and it did sound more inviting to spend it with a friend, instead of holed up all alone in his hotel room. And it had been some time since he had actually talked to Nick._

_Nick hadn’t been deterred by Jack’s silence, long since used to his little odd quirks, and was still smiling at him brightly. Not for the first time, Jack thought that he really did suit quite well here out south._

_Smiling a little in return as he hefted his bag up onto his shoulder, he answered, “Coffee sounds good.”_

_Nick somehow smiled even brighter at that, before he slung an arm around Jack’s shoulders and practically dragged him out of the arena._

_Afternoon games were infrequent enough to be rendered strange in the schedule in which Jack ran his life by, and he never quite got used to the rhythm of them. While playing at home they were a disguised blessing, but away they just felt out of place._

_The traffic of downtown Anaheim on a early tuesday night was not as dreadful as Jack could have imagined it to be. It was actually rather manageable, and reminded Jack a little of Montréal. If Montréal would be 80 degrees with a blazing sun in the middle of November._

_Jack was on principle always a little wary of sojourning at any public setting outside of Providence. He had always been painfully aware of his own prominence, and no amount of travelling could ever get him used to strangers popping holes in his carefully crafted bubble of privacy. But the coffee shop that Nick steered him into proved itself to be a little haven, spacious and not overly crowded, the staff greeting Nick with the grace of familiarity._

_And it wasn’t long before they were seated in a pair of identical chairs in a little nook of the shop, Nick’s glass of sweetened and frothy concoction looking ridiculously overindulgent in comparison to Jack’s plain black, the sun setting with a soft glow out by the coast._

_It was a lot like old times. Nick hadn’t changed much,_ the sun hadn’t gotten _too_ much to his head _, and neither had Jack, really. Nick asked a lot about the kids, seeing how there were more of them than there had been when he had left Providence, and Jack got it confirmed that he really had found his place with the Ducks._

_Nick had just ordered some sandwiches for them, along with a second round of coffee, when he absently tapped at his glass, and really, Jack should have known he was in for trouble then._

_“Do you remember my niece, Eireen?”_

_Jack_ did _remember her, because it was hard not to._

_Eireen Monaghan was in the States studying at college on a track and field scholarship. She was also seated out by the west coast, but had always made time to visit her Uncle Nick even when he had been playing in Providence. She had attended the Falconers’ family outings a few times, and she was a whirlwind like no other, but a surprisingly pleasant and amiable one._

_Jack smiled around his coffee before he answered. “Yeah, I do.”_

_“She’s making a real name for herself, you know,” Nick said, and the pride was clear in his eyes._ Monaghans always look out for one another _, he had once told Jack. “Broke the junior world record for pole vault last summer, and has been introduced to the national team and everything.”_

_“That’s great news.”_

_“Yeah,” Nick agreed, taking another sip of his frothy behemoth. “And she’s pregnant.”_

_Jack blanked for a moment, not having expected that twist in the conversation, but recovered smoothly enough, by his standards at least. “Oh. Congratulations. That must be very exciting.”_

_“Oh, y’know. A new rascal or two won’t really make a difference in our clan. You should know that,” Nick said with a wicked grin, before he sobered up a little again, his fingers tapping at his glass. “Eireen’s excited though. You know how pregnancy makes your blood levels rise along with some of your hormones and all that jazz, so she’s looking forward to take advantage of that.”_

_Jack didn’t really know much about pregnancy at all, so he just nodded his head knowledgeably while he sipped at his own coffee._

_“Now she just needs to find some adoptive parents.”_

_That made Jack look up. “She’s not keeping it?”_

_“Nah. She ain't the mother type. And there was something about wanting to help less fortunate and not the overpopulation, or something.”_

_“Well, that’s good of her.”_

_Nick continued to fiddle with the rim of his glass, and_ really, _Jack should have known something was off, because Nick never had a problem speaking his mind, unless he was really,_ really _reluctant to say something._

_“Yeah, so that’s the thing,” he eventually said, finally looking up at Jack again. “She wondered if maybe you and Eric were interested.”_

_Jack was glad he hadn’t taken another sip of coffee, because he would have choked on it. “Excuse me?”_

_Nick started tapping more rapidly at his glass, and then the words were just pouring out of him._

_“Well, y’know, she remembers the two of you, and she really liked you, and she remembers how good you were with the little ones, and she’s really insistent on the kid ending up in a loving home, and she said something about your family being the most loving one she had ever seen, and she wants the kid to still grow up in a big family, and she figured it’d be easier to keep up some kind of contact with someone she was familiar with and…”_

_“Wait, wait,” Jack cut in, needing space to breathe and to_ think _. “Eireen wants me and Eric to adopt her baby?”_

_Nick shrugged awkwardly. “Yeah?”_

* * *

Bitty just stared at him for a long, long moment, his fingers wrapped tightly around his tea mug.

“Monaghan’s niece wants us to adopt her unborn child,” he said slowly, and then paused, as if needing time to let that fact sink in. “Jack, that’s _crazy_.”

“I know,” Jack could only agree, but he was incapable of fighting the smile that had fixed itself onto his face.

Bitty let out a low huff and rolled his eyes. “What did you even tell Monaghan?”

“That I would talk to you,” Jack said, pulling his own mug closer to himself, the heat in his hands now just a comfortable warmth rather than a scalding burn. “And that he’d get us in touch with Eireen if we decided to talk to her.”

He had said that mostly just to ease the distressed look in Nick’s eyes and to buy himself some time and space to think. But now, after having mulled it over for a day, he found himself hoping that they actually would decide to talk to her.

It couldn’t hurt to talk to her, right?

Bitty was staring at him again. “Jack this is _crazy_ ,” he repeated, and then continued before Jack could reply. “We said no more kids. We said that Min was the last one. We have _five_ kids, for Pete’s sake.”

“Yes, but-”

“Do you remember what we said before we adopted Josué? That we would be _lucky_ if we got to adopt a child. And let me tell you, Mr. Bittle, this is pushing our luck.”

“Yes, I-”

“Do you even understand some of the looks I get during PTA meetings? I’m not only the child hoarding parent, I’m the child hoarding _gay_ parent, and if I have to listen to one more condescending comment from Helen _Collins_ , I’m going flip Jack, I swear to God, I’m going to _flip_. Not to mention that you spend half the days of the year travelling, while I run a freaking _bakery_ , we already barely have enough hours in the day to begin with and…”

“Bitty,” Jack finally interrupted, his voice leaving no room for arguing, a combination of his captain-voice and his papa-voice, and the only thing that would cut through his husband’s rambling when his mind ran away from him. Bitty froze, his knuckles whitening around his mug, and Jack gently steered him to focus on the question at hand. “Do you want a baby?”

Bitty sighed. “It’s not about what I _want_ , Jack, about what _we_ want. It’s about what we could and shouldn’t do.”

Jack frowned. “Do you remember what else we said before we adopted Josué? That we wouldn’t care what other people thought of our family.”

That had been a resolution that might have been a little hypocritical on Jack’s part, seeing how he had always cared too much about what other people thought of him. But it was also a resolution that had been surprisingly easy to keep.

He had quickly learned to put the wellbeing of his children before any type of judgement from those around him.

He would never forget Bitty’s indignation once he had realized that the only reason their adoption of Josué had been approved was because of Jack’s monetary capital, and then his fierce determination to prove to the entire world that they were more than just the dollar sign painted on Jack’s back. His frenzy had almost been worse than his jam hysteria, which was one of the reasons behind why said resolution had been settled between them.

Because while Josué had gotten the physical therapy he needed, he had also started laughing more, and brighter in a way that his foster mother had never heard him do. Ana had overcome her nightmares, and had allowed herself to grow closer to people again. Karim had blossomed into the warm and affectionate young man that everyone around him had known that he had always had the potential to become. Becky still struggled with her tears, but had learned to balance them out with her lovely little smiles, while Min was slowly but surely learning that she had firm ground underneath her feet to stand on now.

And if people wanted to think of them as child hoarders out of selfishness or the attention or whatever else stupid reason they wanted to judge them for, then more fool of them.

Bitty sunk a little lower into his seat at the reminder. “You have a point, but so do I. I’m sure you remember what it was like taking care of Josué his first year. A newborn is going to need twice as much attention and time, if not _more_ , which is time we simply don’t have…”

“I retire in the spring,” Jack gently reminded him, and Bitty’s eyes jumped up to his in surprise.

They hadn’t talked much about what Jack was going to do after the spring, because Bitty had known that it frightened Jack, and he wasn’t prone to push those fears. There had been loose discussions and some vague ideas had been proposed, but Jack had never acknowledged it as head-on as this before.

“Yes,” Bitty agreed carefully. “But you shouldn’t have to do everything on your own.”

“Are you saying I can’t take care of a child, Bittle?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips as he took a sip of his cooling tea.

Bitty exhaled, and then he fixed Jack with the same disapproving look that he fixed the child who had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “No, I’m not, and you know it. You’re great with kids; you always have been. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t want to dump you at home on baby duty when you’ve just let go of your life’s greatest dedication.”

Jack hummed a little before he took another sip of his tea. “I wouldn’t mind dedicating the rest of my life to being a house husband.”

Bitty huffed another sigh. “You’re not funny, Mr. Bittle.”

“I think I’m a little funny.” Bitty returned Jack’s grin with a soft smile of his own, and he had that fond look in his eyes he sometimes got when he thought Jack was being ridiculous but still a little endearing. Jack could definitely dedicate his entire life to getting Bitty to always look at him like that.

And deciding to take advantage of his slightly lowered guard, Jack decided to gently prod with, “So did I hear you say that you actually wanted a baby?”

“I did not say-” Bitty started, the glint of doubt back in his eyes, and Jack sighed before he straightened in his seat.

“Look, Bits. Let’s just talk to Eireen, okay? We haven’t even talked to her, and it’s her baby we’re discussing. Let’s talk to her before we decide anything, eh?”

Bitty hesitated, his fingers fiddling with the ear of his mug. “We’d have to talk it through with the _kids_ first.”

“Clearly.”

“But…”

Jack smiled at the wistful look on Bitty’s face, and stretched his hand towards him across the table. “Do you want a baby, baby?”

“I want a baby,” Bitty finally admitted as he reached out for Jack’s hand and clutched onto it.

And that, if anything, settled everything in Jack’s mind. “Then we’ll get a baby.”

Bitty fixed him with another exasperated look. “Jack, you can’t just _decide_ that, we’ll need to…”

“If you want a baby, then we’ll get a baby.”

The challenging look in Bitty’s eyes was more mischievous than uncertain this time, and he matched it with a chirping tilt to his smile. “What if the kids don’t want a baby?”

“Then we’ll convince them that they want a baby,” Jack stated with more certainty than he probably had any right to.

But he could be convincing. When he needed to be.

Bitty just offered him a flat look. “Have you _met_ our kids?”

Jack grinned as he squeezed Bitty’s hand tighter. “They’re not unreasonable.”

“I’ll remind you of that the next time one of them refuses to wear a Falconers jersey at a home game.”

“If anyone’s to blame for them being so big Sharks fans, it’s Chowder.”

“I’m not pointing out whose fault it is; I’m pointing out that once they’ve set their minds to something, _they won’t be changed_.”

Jack smiled before he brought up Bitty’s hand to place a soft kiss to his palm. “We’ll see about that.”

* * *

Later in the night they had bickered about who was supposed to hang up the newly washed clothes, but Bitty wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was, and Jack had seen him yawning and rubbing at his eyes as he had washed away their tea mugs while Jack had unpacked. He had eventually also been able to dispel Bitty out of the laundry room, which had earned him a sleepily grateful kiss to his shoulder.

Closing the door behind his husband, after having watched him shuffle his way up the stairs, Jack had carefully turned the radio up a few notches, humming along under his breath as he occupied himself with hanging up tiny little socks and small sweaters.

Trying not to think too much of even tinier little socks and smaller shirts.

Bitty had been warm and sleepy and cuddly when he eventually retired under their covers, and had immediately fallen asleep as soon as he wound his arms around Jack’s waist, still wearing Jack’s old Samwell shirt, legs tangled with Jack’s own. It had taken a considerably longer time for Jack to fall asleep, jetlag being an old and familiar companion that still took its time to overcome sometimes. But he had been content to wait for sleep to come for him, running his fingers over the outline of Bitty’s spine, listening to the soft hum of their children sleeping all around them.

Feeling the last spool of stress from travelling unravel in his chest. Settling in exactly where he was supposed to be.

He had winced as Bitty’s glaring alarm awoke them again in the morning though, pulling a pillow over his head as Bitty scrambled to shut it off. He figured he had been kind of compensated for it when he was allowed to steal several lazy, indulgent kisses that eventually had Bitty pushing away from him with a laugh high in his throat, a faint blush on his cheeks, and with a slight shove at Jack’s shoulder.

“Mr. Bittle,” he had said in a voice that was probably meant to be reprimanding, but only came across as fond. “We’ve got work to do.”

Then he had kissed Jack one last time on the forehead before he had scurried out of their shared warmth before Jack had the chance to pull him in again. Jack had fallen back against the pillows and listened to him move around in their bathroom. It had taken every ounce of self restraint Jack had ever possessed to stay put where he was curled up in the familiar dip of their bed instead of following him, because Bitty’s resolve could only be stretched that far in the mornings, and they _did_ have things to do.

The rest of the morning had been the same hurricane of chaos that it usually was, and Jack had still been chewing on his bacon, Becky hitched on his hip, as he had herded his assortment of children out into the car. He had managed to steal one last kiss from Bitty before they had all headed out for their days, spreading out all across the city at various kindergartens, schools, bakeries and ice rinks.

Jack quickly fell into the rhythm of being at home again, and was grateful that he had a whole week at home turf before he had to hit the road again. He woke up next to Bitty every morning, helped the kids get ready for their days, drove them to school, headed to practice, picked the kids up from school, spent the evenings helping with homework, and then went to bed next to Bitty every night.

He was so submerged in his routine, happy at having tucked away a win against the Habs on Friday night and preparing to face the Rangers on Sunday, that he had almost been a little rattled when Bitty had announced a family gathering on Saturday afternoon.

The thought of tiny little socks had never quite left the back of his head though, and it was with a nervous flutter in his stomach that he watched his children line up before him and Bitty in the living room.

“What has Karim done now?” Josué asked around a heavy sigh before he hauled himself up onto the couch, sending a weary glare at his older brother.

“I haven’t done anything!” the boy in question immediately declared, before he frowned, deep in thought. “I think?”

“No, honey, you haven’t done anything,” Bitty was quick in reassuring him, and then hurried to clarify before any of them had the time to work themselves into a state. “No one’s done anything. We’re not here to lecture you. We’re here because your papa and I have a very important question to ask y’all.”

That gained their attention, and they all looked up at them expectantly. Bitty hesitated, and Jack could see how his head silently kicked into overdrive, and reached out for his hand, squeezing it quickly. Bitty turned to him, and just looked at him for a moment, before squeezing back. Then he turned back to their kids lined up on the couch with a careful smile.

“How would y’all feel about having a baby in the family?”

A stunned silence settled over the living room as they all took the time for that question to settle in. Bitty’s hold on Jack’s hand tightened a little, and Jack ran a soothing thumb over his knuckles, prompting him to give the kids the time to think this over in their own time.

Bitty was just about to start fidgeting when the silence was finally broken.

“A _baby_ baby?” Ana asked, a confused set to her eyebrows.

Bitty looked up at Jack, who squeezed his hand a little tighter again, and then turned back to smile carefully at their children again. “Yeah, a baby baby.”

The lines on Ana’s forehead smoothed out, and then she shrugged before turning to look at the rest of her siblings. “I’d be cool with it.”

That was all the affirmation Min needed to raise her hand and start waving it frantically to catch their attention. “Oh, ooh, ooooh, can we get a girl? Please, please, please, please, please?”

The tension slowly bled out of Bitty’s shoulders, and his smile settled a little more firmly as he clutched Jack’s hand tighter. “You know we can’t decide that, honey. Remember, no matter what sex the doctors assign someone when they’re born; no one gets to decide their gender but themselves.”

Min accepted that gentle reprimand gracefully enough, which was to say with _only_ a slight huff and a pout as she settled back into the couch. But at least her stance on the baby question was clear enough.

“Don’t look at me,” Josué said with a grin as the attention slowly shifted to him. “I’ve done this four times already, what’s one more?”

Bitty looked like he wanted to counter that remark, but he frowned instead as he focused on the little girl seated beside their little troublemaker. “Becky?”

Becky’s little legs were swinging over the edge of the couch and she refused to meet any of their eyes. Her lips were pressed into the thin line that Jack knew meant she was thinking very, very hard, and the room settled into silence again as they allowed her to come to her decision.

“You won’t forget about us?” she finally asked in a horribly small voice, and Jack felt his heart breaking in two.

“Oh, baby!” Bitty exclaimed before Jack got the chance to, letting go of Jack’s hand in order to kneel down in front of her and pull her into a light embrace. “Of course not, baby, of course not. How could we ever forget you?”

Gently rocking Becky back and forth for a little while, Becky’s small fingers curled into the back of Bitty’s shirt, Bitty looked over each of their children in turn. “How could we ever forget any of you?”

Min smiled brightly in response, and Josué reached over to run a comforting hand across Becky’s back as Bitty pulled back to be able to curl a finger under her chin to tilt her head up a little. “Papa and I just feel like we have enough room in our hearts to make place for another person in our family. But they are going to have a room all of their own, next to all of yours. No one, and I mean no one,” he said as he bumped his nose into Becky’s, luring a small giggle out of her, “is ever going to replace _your_ room in our hearts.”

Bitty smiled as he brushed some of her hair out of her face. “Do you understand, sweetheart?”

Becky nodded carefully. “That’s good, sweetheart, that’s very good,” Bitty said, pressing a kiss to her forehead before sitting back a little. “So, what do you say? Do you think you have enough room in your heart to love another person?” Becky nodded a little more surely this time, and Bitty smiled. “Do you think you want a baby sibling?”

Becky hesitated for a few more moments, then smiled shyly, the beginnings of a flush coloring her cheeks. “Babies are cute.”

“They are!!” Min immediately agreed, and swung an arm around her little sister and pulled her into another embrace. “Awwwww.”

Bitty laughed as he was dragged into the little huddle that formed by the edge of the couch. Jack’s focus was dragged to the other end though, to where Karim was fidgeting with his nails and waggling one of his feet, a nervous tick he rarely displayed these days.

“Karim?” he gently prompted, and the boy’s eyes snapped up to his, fixing him with a pleading expression. Jack couldn’t remember ever seeing him that desperate before.

“I won’t have to change room again, do I?”

Jack chuckled lowly, the nervous spool quickly uncoiling in his chest again, and he walked over to place a steadying hand on his son’s shoulder. “No, you won’t.”

“Oh, thank God,” Karim exhaled, the relief palpable on him. Then he immediately perked up to his usual, cheerful self again. “Yeah, then I’m cool with it.”

Bitty smiled from where he was still entwined in a complicated embrace, but somehow managed to inspect each child in turn. “Is that all in favor, then?”

“Aye!” they all answered in a chorus, and Bitty grinned as he turned to look up at Jack.

“Well, Mr. Bittle. Looks like we’re getting a baby.”

Jack could only smile back, feeling his heart grow in his chest.

“Yes, it does.”

* * *

Jack called Nick after their two-pointer against the Rangers, and he could see the way Nick’s grin illuminated his entire face even all the way from the other side of the country. He was given Eireen’s phone number along with a rough draft of her schedule, and a promise that the Ducks would kick the Rangers’ ass. Nick hung up with another sound grin and a ‘good luck’, which Jack chose to interpret having several meanings.

Jack and Bitty didn’t actually sit down to make use of Eireen’s number until after Christmas and New Year’s, but Eireen was just as exceedingly jubilant as Jack remembered her anyway, even though her restless excitement made it sound like she had been waiting for their call ever since Jack had first talked to Nick. Eireen was happy to babble on a mile a minute, and even Bitty seemed to have a hard time keeping up, but the one thing they managed to hang onto was that she seemed all but ready to sign all the papers right away.

Luckily, Jack and Bitty had long practice in dealing with overly excited individuals, and they managed to calm Eireen down enough to convince her to at least meet up with them before anything was settled. Due to several busy and conflicting schedules, they weren’t able to line up a meeting until late into February, but as fate would have it, that meant that Eireen could follow the Ducks and Nick up for their rematch against the Falconers.

Time flew by quickly after that, their family’s familiar rhythm of playing, baking, studying and constant chirping carrying them all through the worst of the dark winter’s hold, and before Jack knew it, the Falconers were preparing to receive the Ducks on home turf as the leaders of the Atlantic division.

Shitty and Lardo had been called down as babysitters, and they were their usual enthusiastic babysitters selves, who gleefully declared it to be solely because of their presence up in the stands that the Falconers had won. Sending the kids home with their somehow even more rambunctious and rowdy uncle and aunt to (hopefully) be put into bed, Jack and Bitty had decided to meet up with Eireen and Nick at _Tidbits_ , and it was a strange echo of when Nick had first taken Jack out for coffee in Anaheim.

Jack and Bitty drove ahead into the bakery, and arrived just as Hannah was finishing up her closing duties, the doorbell chiming above their heads as they did. Hannah had eagerly offered to stay behind and cater on them, but Bitty all but shooed her, the tittle-tattler that she was, out through the backdoor, with a stern reminder that she was on bread duty in the morning. Then he had rolled up his sleeves, fetched some of that morning’s leftover bread, and set about making a pile of sandwiches.

Jack, after having checked that Hannah had hung up the ‘Closed’ sign on the door, cleared out one of the tables that she had just stacked away for the night, and then started started making coffee on the intricate machine that Alexis had spent many grievous hours trying to teach him the ins and outs of. The rest of the time waiting was spent talking about everything and nothing at all with Bitty, watching him work, just as familiar in the little space he had built for himself, all on his own, as he was in their kitchen back home.

Bitty had just popped one of the next day’s blueberry pies, somehow remembering that it was Eireen’s favorite, into the oven when the doorbell chimed again.

Eireen was just as chipper as the last time Jack and Bitty had met her, all airy laughter and sparkling eyes. The only thing that had changed really was that she had a more protrudent belly.

“Eric! Jack!” she exclaimed as soon as she stepped in through the door, Nick carefully closing it behind them as she greeted them both with enthusiastic handshakes. Her accent was heavier than Nick’s; overbending her vowels in a way that was surprisingly comforting to Jack. Her hair was also a few shades darker than her uncle’s, dark freckles scattered all across her skin, bunching together on her nose as she smiled. Her cheeky grin must have been a Monaghan trademark, though. “It’s so nice to see you again!”

“It’s so nice to see you too, sweetie,” Bitty said, clasping Eireen’s hand with both of his own. “How’re you doing?”

“Ah, I’m fine,” Eireen said with another grin, easily brushing off Bitty’s worried concerned, placing a careful hand at the bump on her stomach as Nick walked over to greet them each with a hug. “It’s a bit of a hassle, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. And I’ve had to cut down on my training, which means I have more time for school, and that’s a good thing, I guess.”

“As if you actually spend any of that time studying,” Nick muttered under his breath as he let go of Jack, which earned him a bright laugh and a smack on his arm.

Eireen spent the time they waited for Bitty to finish their meal eagerly asking him and Jack about everything and anything, about Jack’s continuous time with the Falconers, about Bitty and _Tidbits_ , and hundreds and hundreds of questions about their kids. Bitty had eventually directed them to the table Jack had cleared out, bringing out their sandwiches while Jack got their coffee, and they had all sat down.

They had filled the first half hour or so with idle small talk while they had all eaten, but then Eireen had fixed Jack and Bitty with that focused kind of intent that Jack had learnt to recognize in professional athletes. “So,” she said, taking a deliberate sip of her coffee, even though she was smirking around the edges. “What do you want to know?”

Bitty immediately plunged into the long list of questions he had prepared; was she sure that she was feeling alright? Had she experienced any pregnancy complications? When was she due? Had she considered other solutions? Had she thought of other families? And was she really very certain of this??

Eireen had just smiled and answered all of their questions with patience and a surprising amount of consideration. Jack was reminded that, despite her spirited personality, she had always struck him as wiser beyond her years, and it was a mature and collected young woman that did her best at soothing all of Bitty’s worries.

She was really very certain of her decision, and she had other options in case the Bittles would fall through. She had been given a due date in late June, and seeing how she graduated in May, she was willing to come up north for the delivery. She was going back overseas after graduation, and didn’t really have a preference for an open or closed adoption, but admitted that it would be kind of interesting to follow the baby’s progression. She had been very clear on the matter that she did not consider herself the baby’s mother though, just their birthgiver, and that she saw a very slim chance of that ever changing.

Bitty had just served the pie, and Jack had gotten them all more coffee, when Bitty asked, “What about the father?”

“Ugh,” Eireen answered with a guttural groan and a heavy eyeroll, “that bastard. I mean,” she quickly recovered at their startled expressions. “He’s not in the picture.”

Nick snorted into his coffee at that, and Jack and Bitty exchanged a quick glance as Eireen glared at him. Eireen then busied herself with showering Bitty with praise over his pies, disclosing how she had never been able to appreciate another baked goods ever since that Falconers’ barbeque she had attended a few years back. The compliments painted Bitty’s cheeks with a lovely blush that Jack hadn’t been able to resist to reach out and brush his knuckles over. Bitty swatted his hand away from his face, but had kept a hold of it, twisting their fingers together and holding it firmly under the table.

The evening slowly lulled to an end after that, with Eireen eating the remaining of the pie directly out of the dish while mindlessly chattering on, Nick throwing an arm over his eyes and slumping down in his seat, accusing Bitty of interference, seeing how he wouldn’t be able to play for at least a week after this.

Bitty shook off that accusation with ease, but Jack could still feel a restless tension growing beside him. Glancing over, seeing the way Bitty’s eyebrows were knitted in a nervous frown, Jack squeezed his hand reassuringly and gently bumped his shoulder into Bitty’s own. Bitty let out a shallow breath, and then seemingly came to a decision.

“Why us?” he finally asked, his hand tightening around Jack’s own.

Eireen looked up in surprise from where she had been picking apart the last piece of the pie while retelling the story of how one of her classmates had nearly blown up the entire chemistry building on their campus earlier that week. It took a while for her to fully register the question, but when she did she just smiled, and it was a small and soft little thing. “You remind me of home. And I want to be certain that the baby has a good home. And a real family.”

“What she means is that she wants the rascal to end up in another clan,” Nick chimed in, which earned him another laugh and a punch in the arm from his niece. But Eireen didn't bother trying to dispute him, and the two of them quickly fell into a rapidfire squabbling in their lilting accent.

Clan or not, Eireen’s baby needed a family, and that was a request Jack and Bitty had never been able to turn down. And meeting Bitty’s eyes as he clutched his hand tighter, Jack saw the same resolution that rang inside of his own head.

_They were adopting a baby._

* * *

After five children, Jack was vaguely familiar with the adoption process. Never before had it involved a birthmother, or been a cross country affair though. But between Eireen’s determination and Bitty’s tenacity, they somehow made it work. And by the end of April, things were settled enough that they had agreed on starting telling their family and friends.

Jack hadn't told Shitty and Lardo the specifics of their post-game date back in February, but Shitty had still been able to somewhat tell. They apparently, in Shitty’s words, got in a ‘mood’ when they were expecting.

That didn't mean that he still didn't freak out when Jack confirmed the news.

“Brah!” he shouted across the phone line, and Jack had to resist the impulse to flinch away from the receiver. “Brah, this is fucking sick!”

“Shits, I don’t really see how this is this is so much different from any other time,” Jack said as he checked the street before crossing, having memorized Shitty’s schedule enough to know that he usually didn’t do much after lunch, and had decided to make the call as he cooled down from his own midday run.

Shitty made an unrefined noise, and Jack fleetingly wondered if he was still in the office, or if he had finally developed the grace to head outside for his private phone calls. “Brah, no, brah listen! Farms just had a baby, and Nursey and Dexter are trying to adopt too, so this one will have actual little tadpole buddies to play with! How fucking sick is that, man? We’re honest to god raising the next gen, you know? That’s fucking crazy.”

“You mean me, Bits and Chowder, and possibly Dex and Nursey, are raising the next generation?” Jack couldn’t help but prod, and smiled at the way he could imagine Shitty’s expression by the sound of his indignant huff.

“Hey, I’m respecting my partner’s decision to do whatever the fucking hell she wants with her body. And you and Bits are hard at work on the adoption wing, so there’s no need for our assist there, and you know…”

Jack carefully tuned out Shitty’s tirade, the white noise of his friend’s familiar monologue calming and comforting as he slowly wound his way through the streets of Providence. Jack prodded and Shitty lectured because that was what they did, but also because this was already chartered ground. They had already had the serious conversation about how Shitty’s ideas of fatherhood were messy and complicated while Lardo’s concepts of motherhood were pretty much nonexistent. So as the good friend Jack was, that meant that he could now start poking fun at their status as the eternally irresponsible uncle and aunt, letting Shitty blow off steam in a way that only a long harangue would let him do.

And besides, it wasn’t like they still didn’t have access to enough kids to last them both a lifetime anyway.

Jack slowly tuned into the conversation again as he rounded one achingly familiar corner, speeding up his steps as his destination finally came into view and as Shitty’s voice took on a more sentimental tone again. “But really, you’re becoming a dad again dude? That’s s’wasome. You’re getting so many snuggles the next time I see you.”

“Don’t let it take too long then, eh? You and Lards should come down for dinner soon. Bits and I miss you both.”

“Aw, fuck you man, I’m at work and you’re gonna make me fucking cry,” Shitty said around something that did sound suspiciously much like a sniffle. “And you’re _paying_ for dinner after you’ve won your next Cup, you goddamn French Canadian adonis, don’t fucking think I’ll let you wiggle your way out of that.”

The Stanley playoffs had just started, with the Falconers having easily qualified as the Eastern conference’s regular season champions. So not only was Jack an expectant father, he was also miraculously trying for one final Cup. If anyone would have told 17-year-old-Jack that this was what his life would end up like, he wasn’t sure how he would have reacted.

But 36-year-old-Jack smiled as he came to a stop outside of _Tidbits_. “Dinner on me if I win the Cup, got it.”

* * *

Jack didn’t think one could ever get used to the feeling of raising the Stanley Cup over one’s head on home ice after one long, hard and gruelling season. Or the feeling of your lips pressing to a piece of living history. Of an entire arena roaring along with you as you skate over to your victorious teammates.

The celebration was a triumphant affair, as it had all the right to be, and Jack was having a hard time containing how proud of and how happy he was for all of those around him. They had all worked and fought so hard and tirelessly to make this happen, and now it had all payed off. And his team, _his Falconers_ , deserved this.

The euphoria of the team, the entire organization, was intoxicating, and Jack was drunk on it, high even. He laughed as Poots abruptly cut off one of the many interviews he had been roped into by all but checking him into the boards after his own lap across the ice, and he had a hard time holding back his own tears as he skated over to let George raise the grail over her head with shaky hands to the enrapture of the entire stadium again. He cheered along with the rest of the team for their would-be-legendary champions photo, and had a hard time believing it was all real.

But despite the high, despite the rush, Jack’s heart and mind was still waiting for that one last little piece to complete his bliss.

And it all fell into place as soon as they opened up the the rink in order to enlarge the celebration, and his eyes immediately settled on that one familiar blonde head.

All these years later, and Bitty still looked at home, like he _belonged_ on the ice, and he was as graceful as ever as he came crashing directly into Jack’s arms. Their height difference was almost comical with Bitty in sneakers and Jack on skates, and Shitty would most likely spend years laughing at the press photos that was undoubtedly being taken of them, but Jack really couldn’t care less, with Bitty’s arms like a vice around his neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer still.

“Honey, I’m so proud of you,” Bitty said above the still crushing noise, his voice shaking and new tears threatening to spill over to his already stained cheeks. “So, so proud,” he murmured in between kisses, pressed to Jack’s lips, cheeks, forehead and brows, and Jack thought he couldn’t possibly ever become any happier.

But then that happiness doubled, if not tripled, by the sight of his children making their way across the ice. Karim skidded in his haste to push Josué’s wheelchair through the throng of people while Min and Ana had to put in a mutual effort to keep Becky upright on her feet, still persistently clad in her Shark’s jersey. And then they all toppled on top of him as soon as they came within arm’s reach.

“Papa!” they shrieked as one as they all collapsed into a huddle, and Jack was grateful his embrace was still large enough to encompass them all as he clutched them as close as he could. Then Bitty’s hand settled onto the back of his neck, fingers curling into his still sweat damp hair, and Jack’s bliss was complete.

He knew that he still had an incredibly long night ahead of him. Reporters would want at least a handful of dozens of more interviews, management would constantly tear and push at him to frame their picture perfect success story for the history books and, if he knew his teammates correctly, the celebrations wouldn’t stop until early in the morning hours. But he had a right to this tiny little moment, and he was going to savor it for as long as he could.

He had worked so hard and sacrificed so much just to end up here. All those days and nights of longing, of yearning, of that aching hollow in his chest that no amount of phone calls or skype sessions could fill. All the soft smiles that never warmed as much as they did in person, fingers pressed to computer screens because even that was better than feeling nothing at all. All the missed games, competitions and recitals, all the missed hugs and kisses and proud grins over at having aced that day’s test, at having made the best clay figure in class or game changing home run. All the lost teeth, scraped knees and nightmares, and all the extra weight on Bitty’s shoulders that he had never wanted to place there.

Jack had a right to this moment, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get to keep it just a little longer.

Someone would inevitably come and jerk him away, but Jack was happy for every single little second he got to hold onto his family a little longer, glad to know he would soon never have to let go ever again.

* * *

Eireen had sent them pictures from her graduation, smiling in the harsh California sun, celebrating with her friends, all decked out in orange and blue, her swollen belly peeking out of her graduation gown as she had accepted her diploma. She had spent the last week of May gathering up the last four years of her life, had said her goodbyes, and had then packed up and moved across the country to live with some relatives on the outskirts of Boston at the beginning of June. And seeing how the Ducks had been booted from the playoffs in the conference finals, she had had the help of a temporarily disconcerted Nick.

Jack and Bitty had offered her to stay with them, but Eireen had just grinned and said that, no matter how tempting it might have been, she wasn’t interested in ruining the Falconers’ season so late in the game, and that she had been pressured to spend more time with her great-aunt and uncle before she went back overseas anyway. She had come down to celebrate the twin’s birthdays though, being her usual cheery and exuberant self, as if carrying around a growing human being didn’t bother her at all.

They had checked in with her daily at first, which eventually had her laughing good naturedly and telling them that she felt like a delinquent child in need of supervision, and had reminded them that she had just graduated college and was well on her way into proper adulthood, thank you very much. They had left the contact to be up to her after that, and then the days quickly ticked on by, especially seeing how the name ‘Bittle’ was once again meant to be engraved onto the Stanley Cup.

And it was one a lazy afternoon in late June, the summer in full bloom, that the call that would change everything came.

Jack had just sent away the Cup overseas with Andersson, and he understood the fascination with how the Falconers would come to change and develop now that the Bittle era was coming to an end. So he was seated at his kitchen table with a reporter opposite him, Becky curled up in his lap, intensely focused on her crayon drawing, and Bitty was humming softly in the background where he was making a pie with the help of Josué and Karim.

It was one of the few interviews that management actually hadn’t had to coerced him into accepting, and one of even fewer that he had ever allowed in their home. But he had been reluctant to leave the house even for the most rudimental tasks ever since he had crashed into his own bed after what had felt like _years_ away at the end of that incredibly long night of the last game of his career.

And he had had a good feeling about this reporter.

She was a rosy cheeked and sweet little thing that couldn’t have been many years out of college, but she also had steel in her eyes and iron in her spine, and distantly reminded him of Ford. She had gracefully accepted the terms he had stipulated for the interview, and had been very professional throughout the whole ordeal, barely even flinching when Min and Ana had tumbled down the stairs, pinching and chirping at each other before they had settled in front of the tv in the living room. She had even paused once, an encouraging smile on her face, and asked Becky what she was painting.

She had just asked him what his plans for the future were when Bitty’s phone rang. Jack absentmindedly dredged up one of the many generic answers he had given over the last few weeks, more focused on Bitty’s conversation than his own.

“Hello? Oh, yes, hi! _No_ , really? Oh my gosh, sweetie. Oh, _sweetie_. Are you alright? Yes, of course, of course, we’re on our way. You’re doing incredible, you know that, right? You’re so strong. Yes, we’ll see you soon. Yes. Bye. Bye.”

The content of his conversation had gained the attention of most in the kitchen, but they all gracefully pretended otherwise as he hung up, Jack tying up whatever story he had pieced together for his unspecified future as he allowed Bitty a few moments to collect himself.

“Honey?” he eventually said, with the tone of voice that quickly gained everyone’s full attention, and Jack twisted around in his chair to face him, careful not to jostle Becky too much. Bitty was still in that very eerie way that meant that he was trying very hard not to freak out, his phone accidentally placed face down in a pile of flour. Jack tried to ignore the way his own heart picked up its pace, raising his eyebrows, and Bitty inhaled quickly. “It’s happening.”

“What, wait, what?” Karim piped up from where he had been trying to steal some of the cherry filling while his dad had been momentarily distracted. His furrowed brow quickly smoothed out as he finally puzzled the pieces together though. “Wait, was that Eireen? Is the baby happening?”

“The baby?” Becky asked quietly as she tilted her head up to look at Jack. He just smiled at her in affirmation, and ran a hand over her head before he turned to the reporter again as Bitty quickly herded the boys out of the kitchen.

“I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut this short.”

She just grinned knowingly before she turned off her recorder and flipped her notebook closed. “That’s okay. I think I have everything I need anyway.”

“Did I hear ‘ _baby_ ’?” Min demanded as she surged up over the back of the couch, almost toppling over and only managing not to because of Ana’s hand yanking her back. The reporter grinned again as she packed up and said her goodbyes, Jack waving her off as Bitty tried to contain their rapidly frenzying children in the hallway.

Jack didn’t think that the drive up to Boston had ever felt so long before. That could have been because of a different kid asking ‘are we there yet?’ every other minute, but one of Bitty’s fingers was also tapping around the hold on his free wrist in time with his other hand tapping away at his phone. All Jack knew was that he released a breath that was equal parts relief and apprehensive anticipation as they finally parked at Massachusetts General almost two hours later.

Eireen’s uncle and aunt met them at the delivery unit, and Eireen had been forethoughtful enough to not call them until late into her delivery, and they were informed that the baby was already born and that Eireen was now in recovery. Jack was quietly grateful, because even though he prided himself in having relatively well behaved children, he didn’t think that even his and Bitty’s united efforts would have been enough to keep them contained to a waiting room.

And before Bitty had the chance to suggest that they wait anyway, Eireen’s aunt had told them that Eireen was expecting them, and had led them all down a series of winding corridors with a warm smile. They eventually came to a stop outside of a softly illuminated room with brightly colored walls, and Eireen’s aunt gestured for them to head inside.

“Now, kids, be _careful_ ,” Bitty warned as he placed a restraining hand on Min’s shoulder, who looked all but ready to vibrate out of her skin in excitement. “Remember, we’re in a hospital, so _behave_. And Eireen just went through something extremely physically taxing, so be gentle with her. Okay?”

“Okay,” they all chimed in, in various degrees of solemness, and Bitty released a careful breath before he herded them into the room.

And Eireen, with her fiery hair tied back from her face and with an exhausted tilt to her bright eyes where she was resting in a mountain of pillows, still found the energy to laugh delightedly at the exchange. “Oh, let ‘em be, Eric,” she said, and smiled a tired but genuine smile as they came into her line of view. “I told you, I’m _fine_.”

Bitty immediately made a beeline for Eireen’s bedside, while the kids quickly scattered all across the room, exploring and prodding and investigating. Jack figured that they could be kept at bay until they discovered that there wasn’t actually a baby in the room, and quietly followed Bitty’s footsteps.

“Oh, sweetie,” he said quietly as he sat down next to Eireen, tucking away some of the stray hair from her face. “You’ve done so good. You’re so strong. So, so strong.”

Eireen glowed under Bitty’s praise, and Jack knew how invigorating his husband’s sheer admiration of you could be. She smiled at him again, and then shifted her gaze to Jack too. “You’ll take good care of him, won’t you?”

Jack’s heart momentarily stuttered in his chest, and he had to consciously remind himself to breathe. _Him_.

It had been easy to just push it all ahead of him, what with the chaos of the playoffs and the mess of the aftermath of it. Even the nursery that Ransom, Holster, Shitty and Lardo had all helped decorate, and the bag Bitty had packed for this very specific moment had been easy to overlook when Jack had barely been home. He had never truly stopped to fully process the fact that he was getting another child.

But now it was all real and almost tangible all in front of him. He had a newborn son.

And after taking a deep breath and steadying his heart again, he managed to smile carefully back at her.

Bitty never ceased his brushing of Eireen’s hair though, and smiled warmly down at her. “Of course, sweetie, of course.”

Eireen had almost dozed off from Bitty’s methodic fingers in her hair, when a midwife suddenly appeared in the doorway and smiled warmly at them. “Mr. and Mr. Bittle, would you like to see your son?”

Bitty inhaled, and it was a quick and soundless little thing, but free hand had also reached out to grab an iron grip of Jack’s hand. Grabbing it back, Jack ran a calming thumb across his knuckles and smiled at him. It took a heartbeat, but then Bitty exhaled again, and smiled carefully at the midwife. “Yes, please.”

The midwife smiled as she nodded and ducked out into the hall again. Bitty squeezed Jack’s hand tighter, and Jack recognized the anticipation in his eyes.

The midwife had apparently interrupted whatever game the kids had been busy playing by the large window behind them, and Karim came over to sit on the edge of the bed on the other side of Eireen, careful not to crowd up too much of her space.

“Did you really just push a baby out of your body?”

Eireen smiled, a little cautious and a little amused, as she pushed herself straighter in the bed. “I did.”

“That’s hardcore,” Karim said, his awe plain and bright in both his voice and eyes, and Eireen grinned wide and wickedly.

“It is.”

Bitty chuckled softly as he leaned into Jack’s side, Jack curling an easy hand around his hip. Karim started an earnest but gentle interrogation after that, what was the worst part of being pregnant, did the whole pushing baby out of body part hurt really, very much, and did she _really_ have to eat like a whale? Eireen smiled brightly as she patiently answered all of his questions with just as much earnesty, and Jack was content to just listen until a gentle knock interrupted the little moment.

Bitty’s head immediately snapped up from where it had come to rest on Jack’s shoulder, his fingers tightening around Jack’s again at the sight of the little bundle in the midwife’s arms. Jack smiled as he gestured for him to stand up, and Bitty did after just a moment’s hesitation. Eireen smiled brightly at them again, and then made a shooing gesture to just get on with it.

There was still a hesitant tilt to Bitty’s steps as he crossed the room, but his hands was steady and sure in a way that only came from a lifetime of handling children when he accepted the bundle from the midwife. She just smiled at them warmly again before ducking out and heading down the corridor again. Jack watched her long enough to see her round a corner, and then returned his attention to Bitty.

“Oh,” he breathed quietly as the baby, _their baby_ , settled in his arms, and Jack had never agreed with him more.

He had mop of curling hair sticking up in every and all directions, several shades lighter than Eireen’s, but still warm and vibrant. His eyes were mostly staying shut, but he peeked up at them long enough to reveal a pair dazzlingly blue eyes. His mouth was pinched in a tight pout, but he seemed content enough as he curled into Bitty’s chest.

Bitty let out a wondering breath, and Jack’s heart contracted and then swelled several sizes in his chest.

He didn’t know for how long they just stood there in the doorway staring, but eventually they were dragged out of their reverie by a gentle tug at Bitty’s sleeve.

“Can I see?” Becky asked carefully, an expectant light in her eyes, and Bitty smiled as he ran a hand over her head.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Guiding them over to the far corner of the room where two chairs and a small table was set up, Bitty sat down so that Becky would get the chance to peer down at her little brother. She inspected him for a while, Min coming up quietly behind her to peer over her head, before she huffed softly.

“He’s all… Wrinkly,” she said as she scrunched up her own nose, and Bitty smiled as he reached out a finger to smooth it out.

“Newborns often are, baby.”

Becky hummed as she considered that information, scrutinizing her new baby brother for a few moments more before coming to a final verdict. “Still kinda cute.”

“He’s _adorable_ ,” Min agreed, resting her chin on Becky’s head and wrapping her arms around her as they all took their time in admiring their family’s newest addition.

And that was how time passed the nearest hour, the kids taking their time looking their fill and getting used to the new space that had been created in the constellation of their family. Karim had been the only one brave enough to ask to hold him, and had done so with just as much reverence as he had respect. He had passed him on to Jack after that, and it had taken a few tries, Bitty helping him adjust his hold just as he had done with Karim, but then the baby had settled into Jack’s arms with a content sigh.

The kids had eventually grown bored of Jack and Bitty’s quiet staring, and had all gravitated towards Eireen again. Ana had somehow curled up next to her on the bed, and had all of them, Eireen included, enraptured in some story that demanded all of her most animated facial expressions and dramatic gestures.

Jack and Bitty was still quite content in their little corner though, quietly staring. Then the baby had sneezed, and for just a moment, his lips had curled upward just a little, displaying deep, deep dimples.

“Chris,” Bitty quietly murmured, one of his fingers caught by a tiny, tiny little fist, and Jack looked up at him in surprise. They hadn’t really discussed names, hadn’t really had the time nor opportunity.

But Jack had to agree that it felt very, very suiting.

“Christophe,” he complemented, half a joke and half carefully hopeful, and smiled when Bitty looked up at him with a contemplative look.

“Christophe,” he finally decided, tracing Chris’ cheek where one of his dimples had been revealed. “Christophe Bittle.”

Jack didn’t even bother fighting the grin that tugged at his lips as he reached out to run his own hand across Bitty’s cheek. “Farmer might end up suing us for damages if we kill Chowder.”

“We have Shitty as a lawyer, and you’re good for it, Mr. Bittle. Besides,” Bitty said as he turned to look up at Jack again with a chirping grin, “death by joy and pride. Wouldn’t that be a way to go.”

* * *

They were well into their third week of July when the summer’s first heat wave washed in over Rhode Island. The heat had been expected, even anticipated by some, and Providence was fram from caught of guard by it. That still didn’t mean that they weren’t all at least a little affected by it, the few, precious clouds that dared defy the heat still shying away from the harsh rays of the sun, even the most well watered flowers wilting in their exhaustion, while people crowded to beaches and pools in desperate attempts to cool off.

Bitty had brushed it all off like he did every year, his accent always growing a little sweeter in sweltering degrees, while Jack had silently passed around ice cubes and popsicles to their overheated children.

They had also managed to time in that weekend to invite their parents, seeing how things had somewhat quieted down. And while Suzanne and Coach had barely batted an eye as they had been picked up from the airport, Jack’s parents had shared his own uneasy stance once they had gotten off their train, his mother wrapped in a light shawl and his father squinting against the sun, muttering something about his frail heart.

The elderly had nonetheless all been hurried back to the air conditioned and shaded cool of their home, Bitty unsubtly kicking an empty beer bottle, that had somehow evaded his furious scrub down earlier in the morning, under the stairs as he herded both his parents and parents-in-law into the kitchen. The SMH squad had been to visit just the day prior, all gawking and roistering and tousling all at once, a natural disaster always leaving a cluttered disarray in their wake, but also a gaping hole of affection every time they left.

The kids had decided to try and fill that hole by playing some kind of faux game of football, that mostly consisted of them trying to pile up on top of their brightly guffawing grandpa, seeing him much too rarely to ever get the hang of the real rules. Suzanne was seated by the porch table, managing to both keep a watchful eye on her husband out on the lawn and chatter away with Bitty and Alicia over the several pitchers of MooMaw’s lemonade that had been stirred together to stave of the heat. Jack’s camera was resting by Bitty’s elbow, most recently having been used to snatch a photo of where Jack and Bob were sitting on the swing with Chris on the other end of the porch.

So far, Jack had taken fairly well to retirement. Granted, he wasn’t really _really_ retired, seeing how he was still wrapped up in the post-season and how he hadn’t really had time to fully process the fact yet. But the few precious, if a little chaotic first weeks were anything to go by, he really didn’t think he would mind it all. With Bitty by his side, the rest of his family surrounding him, the dull throbbing at the back of his head where Shitty had elbowed him when he had tried to hug him the day before and the slight soreness that still stuck to his ribs after Tater had lifted him off the ground at the Cup celebrations, he almost wouldn’t mind if he never got to lace up a pair of skates ever again.

He already had enough love to last him for the rest of his lifetime.

But watching the way his dad was carefully cradling Chris, making ridiculous noises and even more ridiculous faces in an attempt to lure a laugh, or even just a chortle, out of him, Jack couldn’t help the small pang of disquiet that settled in his chest. Jack had seen his dad earlier in the summer, an unspoken tradition that he spent the Cup day with him, and they had talked innumerous of times before that, the call from his parents the first one Jack had accepted after the celebrations.

It was little odd, finally sitting in the same boat as his papa. The boat he had always longed to end up in, but which he had always regarded with such distress. His papa, the untouchable legend that Jack could only dream of living up to, that he had almost ruined himself trying to reach for.

His papa, with his chalk white hair, the beard that he never bothered shaving off these days, and the bad hip that he complained about more than Jack thought he probably had any right to, laughter lines deep around his eyes; always having been a mirror into Jack’s own future. But Jack had long since learned that his footsteps were simply just guidelines, and that he had the strength and means to stake out his own path.

And it was easier, these days, reaching out to his papa. It had increasingly gotten easier, ever since Samwell. And now, with Jack’s feet firmly planted beneath him, with the steadfast security he needed to be able to brave whatever storms the future had in store for him tightly wrapped around him, it felt like they were finally at an even keel.

Bad Bob Zimmermann looked up from his newborn grandson long enough to smile at son, the deep lines around his eyes, that was nowhere near the same shade as Jack’s but that sloped in the same way, deepening, it was like he had always known this day would come.

And Jack Bittle felt the final stone drop as he smiled back.

There were no more barriers between them anymore.

“He was a few months too late,” Bob mulled out loud as he gently rocked Chris, and Jack raised an eyebrow at him in question. “You didn’t get to recreate the Stanley Cup photo.”

“Papa!” he groaned, fully prepared to hash out this dreadful conversation. But then Chris made a sound that sounded suspiciously much like a giggle, and they both quickly forgot all about it.

* * *

_Welcome great love number eight._

**Author's Note:**

>  ~~How many boat metaphors could I fit into the last 1000 words, I lost count of them.~~  
>     
> I imagine _XO_ by Beyoncé will play at the back of Jack’s head during every single one of his Stanley Cup celebrations. _In the darkest night hour, I'll search through the crowd, your face is all that I see._
> 
> ANYWAY.
> 
> Yeah. This monster is finally here. For being his story, Chris is actually not featured a lot, but oh well. Here it is. How Chris became a Bittle.
> 
> Ngl, I rewatched _Juno_ to get some references for this. My knowledge of real-life adoption processes are sketchy at best, and when it comes to the American one, non-existent. So yeah. Most of my knowledge of America comes from popular culture, tbh.
> 
> ~~I still haven’t quite let go of Shitty Knight The Law Student story. Rule 3.0.3. man.~~
> 
> And as usual; I KNOW NOTHING OF CHILDBIRTH. Please read this with a grain of salt, and know that it was written with a huge amount of artistic liberties.
> 
> ~~Also, I really don’t know anything about the NHL either, let me live.~~
> 
> But come scream at me about these hockey nerds over at [tumblr!!](http://stolligaseptember.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Bonus;
> 
>  **Eireen’s great-aunt:** But how are we going to know it's them? We don’t even know what they _look like._
> 
>  **Eireen, while in the middle of labour:** Just look for a tall French Canadian and his tiny southern husband and their five rowdy kids; you can’t miss ‘em, I _promise._


End file.
